


Maybe Eating the Apple Was Justified

by DontHaveToSayILY (ElderWhizzerBrown)



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: F/F, MeetCute, Mild Angst, Mild Language, Moving, Possibly OOC and possibly not based on canon but I’m having fun ok, Romantic Tension, at the beginning aka the only part that’s any good, no actual romance, so ig u could read them as friends but just be warned they are lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElderWhizzerBrown/pseuds/DontHaveToSayILY
Summary: Iris and Epon meet and oh no they’re in love! (But lowkey tho)AKA I’ve been hyperfixating on SCP and I am having a good time in Google Docs.
Relationships: SCP-105/SCP-166 (SCP Foundation)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Maybe Eating the Apple Was Justified

**Author's Note:**

> The spirit of Sapphos herself must have possessed me cuz I wrote this over the course of an afternoon and only proofread once with like two changes and to my anxious ass that is an achievement. Basically, this is probably a stupid, cliche fic written by a teenager with a decent amount of writing skills that were nevertheless not employed for this piece, so make of that what you will. Enjoy.

Iris was _bored_ . She’s been bored a lot since the Foundation learned about her “anomalies”. The only mildly interesting thing she’d done in the two years she’d been in Foundation custody was get involved with Omega-7, and that had ended on a rather poor note. But as she lay on her bed and stared at the digital clock on her white walls, she was sure _this_ had to be the most bored she’d even been. 

Even her _room_ was boring. She had an iron frame bed, a rack for her clothes, a toilet and shower hose, and the aforementioned clock. She could, extraordinary circumstances notwithstanding, leave, provided she stayed in places she was allowed, but there wasn’t much to do there either, not that she hadn’t already done.

Sometimes Iris didn’t even feel human anymore. Mostly after she’d breached containment and had all her privileges revoked for a few months. She’d been the number printed on her orange jumpsuit and nothing more. What was the deal with orange jumpsuits in the first place? Were they _trying_ to make it feel like a prison? Nowadays she had most of those privileges back, even if they still didn’t let her near her camera, but there was still only so much one could do at site 17. She’d taught Josie all the tricks imaginable, spied on all the scarier or weirder skips, pranked Dr. Bright _and_ Dr. Clef, read every non-classified file she could get her hands on. What else was there to do? 

The clock ticked from 1:59 to 2:00 and Iris forced herself to get off her ass already. There had to be _something_. Maybe if she begged they’d let her help research 387 or 999. Maybe she could borrow Tommy’s computer for a bit. Maybe Cain would let her bug him for stories. Maybe….

 _God_ , she was sick of it. Just for once, she wanted to do something new. She was a _kid._ They couldn’t expect to keep her cooped up here forever. She wished her “anomaly” really had disappeared. She just wanted to go home. _Even if I did,_ she thought, _it’s not like anyone would remember me. I’m dead to them._

Iris had to get away from that thought, so she punched the code into the door and left her room. She didn’t bother to change out of the jumpsuit, even though she was allowed to choose her own clothes again. Who cared, anyway? Not Iris. 

In the hallway, there was some sort of commotion going on. A group of researchers rushed past her door to the entrance of the building, white lab coats billowing behind them. She ducked out of their way and looked to see what they were rushing towards. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

Iris grabbed the nearest person’s arm. It turned out to be Agent Dahl, her curly red hair pulled into a tight ponytail. “What’s going on?”

“Oh! Iris, you scared me. There was a breach at site-24 and some of the storerooms were damaged, so they’re moving some of the skips here while they try and clean it up.” 

Iris tightened her grip without even thinking. “New skips?!” She realized how tight her grip was and immediately let go. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

“No harm done.” Agent Dahl took a second to look over Iris, who was staring the direction the researchers had gone with obvious interest. “Would you like to come help out?”

“Could I?” The girl’s face lit up at the idea. Now _that_ would be something interesting! She hoped some of them would be human. 

The older woman checked her clipboard. “Let me see… it doesn’t sound like there would be any issues with the containment procedures. As long as you do exactly as I say, you can come, alright?”

Iris couldn’t agree faster. 

—-

Most of the information on the skips was classified, as she should’ve expected, so Iris wasn’t allowed to know what they did. Still, it was something to fill a day, carrying vials of a blue liquid, a statue of a cat, a sealed folder of papers labeled “WARNING - cognitohazard within”, and a wooden sign with words in a foreign language into the storeroom. It would’ve been enough if it had ended there, but a final truck pulled up as the sun was setting. 

One the head researchers went to talk to the driver for a second before turning to everyone helping. “Alright, I’m going to need all male personnel to clear out. While they’re at it, some of the rest of you need to be sure the halls heading to the humanoid containment quarters are clear too. You know the drill, no exceptions.” 

The male members of the crowd and a group of female guards moved to do as she said. Iris looked quizzically at Agent Dahl, but she was still helping with the boxes from the last truck. _What skip was this one?_ Iris wondered. The researcher said they’d be going to the humanoid containment quarters. Maybe it would be someone Iris could talk to? 

Once the coast was clear, the head researcher opened the back door of the car and a girl of about sixteen stepped out. She was barefoot, clothed only in a medical gown with the foundation logo on the lapel, her hair shorn to her skull. She carried a duffel bag and looked a little lost. 

“105!” 

Iris jumped when she heard her number and turned to the source. It was a researcher she didn’t recognize, standing at her shoulder. “Uh, yes, ma’am?”

“Come here.” She led Iris to the group forming around the girl. Everyone looked up when she arrived. “166, I’d like you to meet 105. Her room is just down the hall from where you’ll be staying, so I’m certain she’ll be willing to help you get settled in.”

The girl looked directly at Iris and back at the ground. Her hazel eyes were wide and her lip seemed to quiver just the slightest bit. “Hi,” she said, voice surprisingly steady. Iris noticed the chain of a necklace disappearing into her dress that she hadn’t seen before. 

“Hi,” Iris replied. 

The researcher who led her over turned to her again. “You wouldn’t mind showing 166 to her room, would you?”

“No! No, that sounds great.”

She smiled tightly and handed Iris a card with the room number on it. “Take her straight here. No detours. You can stay and chat for a while if you’d like, or you can come back and help finish up. Whatever you want.”

With that, she gestured for the two girls to get lost. Iris walked back into the building and the new skip followed, staying close to Iris. “Thank you,” the girl said, quite sincerely. “I hate moving.” She had a British accent and spoke quietly but confidently. 

“It’s no problem at all. I’ve been dying to meet a new skip.” She stuck out a hand. “I know she introduced me already, but my name’s Iris Thompson, not 105.”

The girl looked at the hand unsurely before she took it. “I’m … Epon, I guess. I’ve had a lot of names.”

“Epon. I’ve never heard that one. What language is it?” 

“I don’t know.”

Iris mentally hit herself. Stupid question. “I like your hair,” she offered instead. 

Epon’s hand touched her own head. “Thank you. We cut it this morning. It grows fast, so I normally keep it long. It’s just easier to travel with like this.”

Iris nodded. She could easily picture Epon with long hair, despite just meeting her. She’d be pretty that way. Not that she wasn’t pretty as is. 

They were in the humanoid containment quarters now. Iris pointed out one of the doors. “That’s Cain’s room. He’s a bit grumpy but if you bug him enough, he’s got all sorts of stories. He only looks like thirty, but he’s thousands of years old, so there’s a lot you can talk about with him.”

Epon nodded warily. “He sounds nice. I’m not really supposed to be around men, though.”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” Iris cringed internally at her mistake. She shouldn’t be going on and on about things Epon couldn’t even do. 

“It’s fine, you forgot! We just met.” 

“Well, um, that room’s Stella’s.” She continued, hoping it would be forgotten. “She’s seven and a total sweetheart. And the one next to it is 191. She doesn’t have a name, but Stella calls her Cybie. She and Stella are about the same age and they’re best friends, even though they need a translator because Cybie can only really talk through machines and Stella’s blind.”

Epon grinned at that. “They sound adorable! I’d love to meet them sometime.”

“Do you have any younger siblings?” Iris blurted. “Before the Foundation, I mean.”

“No.” 

Iris waited, but Epon didn’t elaborate. “I had a brother,” she said to fill the silence. “But he was older than me. He was in college when I….moved in here, I guess.”

They reached the room that was to be Epon’s. The windows were painted over and a sign warning all males to keep out was affixed to the door. Beneath it was a label, declaring this room belonged to SCP-166, Euclid. Iris turned to Epon and raised her eyebrows. “Euclid, huh? No fair, I’m only Safe. And that’s _after_ breaching containment that one time.”

Epon laughed. “Well, no matter how willing I may be to be contained, one never knows who might wander too close.” She looked a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Men who see me are strongly affected. It’s … not easy.”

Iris frowned at that. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged like she had the world on her shoulders. “I’m used to it.”

Iris tried to steer the conversation in a better direction. “If you’re not supposed to be around guys, how will you eat? Will you just stay in here alone?”

She shrugged. “That’s what it was like before. I don’t mind. Although I wouldn’t be … _opposed_ to some company at times.” Her eyebrow raised at Iris.

“I can keep you company!” Iris blurted again. Epon looked at Iris with a small smirk. She flushed and amended her statement. “If you want.”

The taller girl smiled and handed Iris her bag. “That sounds nice.” She opened the door and walked in. Iris followed. 

It was a standard humanoid containment cell, just like all the others. Only this one didn’t even have a place for Epon’s clothes to go. She set the bag on the desk and watched as Epon closed the door.

Epon grabbed the bag and unzipped it carefully. She pulled out a book - _the Bible,_ Iris realized - and placed it on the desk. “Are you religious?” Iris asked. 

“Yeah. I grew up in a convent. As far as we know, my father handed me off to the nuns, said ‘she’ll be a bit weird’ and fucked off.” She seemed a bit angry, but it was hard to tell with her face turned away. “They were probably better parents than he would have been, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Iris said. What else could she say? Probably every skip had some sort of tragic backstory. At least for Iris it had been decent for the first fifteen years. “My parents think I’m dead,” she offered as some sort of commiseration. “I haven’t seen them for almost two years now. I kinda had to leave everything behind, once the Foundation found out about me.”

Epon was silent, pulling at the collar of her medical gown. Iris worried that she’d said too much and decided to go sit out of the way on the bed until Epon needed her again. She watched the other girl’s back as she unpacked her things. Paints and colored pencils, magazines and books, all neatly arranged on the surface of the desk. 

“Are you an artist?” Iris asked.

“Not a good one. It’s just a hobby.”

“ _Sure._ I bet you’re fantastic.” She stood and moved to grab one of the paintings from the bag. It was a fantasy landscape, purple hills dotted with colorful people and strange glowing lights. “ _Wicked,_ ” Iris breathed. “You made this?”

Epon pulled it from her hands and tucked it under an arm. “It’s an older one.”

“It's incredible!” 

“Uh, thanks.” 

Iris looked in the bag. Inside were a few other paintings and a small bag filled with toiletries. “Where are your clothes?”

“Can’t wear them,” Epon responded. “They irritate my skin. I only wear this when I’m going to be around people.”

“Oh.” Iris steered back to the paintings, hoping they’d be a more polite subject. “Well, I think your art is fantastic. I’m a photographer, actually, but I’m not supposed to use cameras without permission anymore.”

“Is it an anomalous thing?”

She nodded glumly. “Yeah, and a punishment thing. You try and escape one time and lose anything fun. That’s why I’m Safe, cause I’m just a normal human without my camera.” _A normal human in a prison._

Someone knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. It was the researcher who’d come here with Epon. “Alright, girls, I’m sure you're having fun, but it’s time for dinner. 105, you can head to the cafeteria. Someone will be here to bring 166 her sustenance in a bit.” 

Iris groaned and got up. “See you later, I guess.” 

“You too. Thanks for helping me.” Epon gave a warm smile and Iris quickly glanced away. The researcher directed her out of the room and closed and locked the door behind them. 

She found, for the first time in a long while, that she wasn’t bored anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos + comments would be great but no pressure k thanks also I may write more of this hence the 1/? But honestly that’s on whether sapphos sees fit to inspire me again


End file.
